


Blood (on his hands)

by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Families of Choice, Gen, Guilt, Hurt, Malcolm Bright Whump, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 22:57:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20956319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry
Summary: Malcolm gets stabbed and Gil feels guilty.Whump, feelings and some father/son undertones.For the whumptober prompt "stab wound"





	Blood (on his hands)

This was impossible.

This was not going to happen. Couldn't.

Gil had known Malcolm for about twenty years. That kid had saved his life when they barely knew each other's name. He was a good kid, but too smart for his own good. That was how he knew call the cops on his dad in a way nobody would be killed, that was how he became one of the top students of one of the top universities, that was how he had become so good at reading people and solving puzzles.

But Malcolm more than just a bright boy. There was something fundamentally good about him, a love for others, a kindness in his eyes. The fact that he was always trying to help, the fact that he so often tried to smile despite everything that life kept putting him through. He was unstable, yes and he was not at all there often... But he was an incredibly good person with a golden heart.

And more than anything else, with his ups and downs, with his virtues and his flaws, Malcolm was his boy. They may not be biologically related and as different as day and night, but Gil loved that man like a son and had always been there for him, had kept tabs on him, had been concerned for his health.

Gil couldn't believe that after everything, he was the one to bring his boy to an almost certain death.

Malcolm had said no to this case at first. Said he wanted to rest for a bit, get himself some days off, try to sleep, try to help himself. But Gil had been afraid that this was just some excuse to have time to delve into painful childhood memories, to lose himself further in his trauma, to visit... Him. So Gil had convinced him to come and help with this series of stabbings that were frightening half the city.

Never would he had thought that this man would be so dangerous. If he thought, he wouldn't have let Malcolm... Not when he was always putting himself in danger, always in the line of fire. But this was a good thing in a way, right? Having Malcolm help them meant he could keep an eye on him, that he had some hours of distraction.

He should have found a better distraction. Like woodwork or knitting. Maybe learning all the lyrics to every song by ABBA. Something harmless like that.

But Malcolm never liked harmless. He liked weapons and snakes, all types of things that hurt him. Gil thought that if he could keep an eye on him things would be better. More controlled.

Instead, Bright had blood in his mouth and Gil was trying to stop a hemorrhage that was practically uncontrollable. His boy's blood, literally on his hands.

Covering his hands, pooling on the floor, coming from his mouth.

The man had stabbed Malcolm several times, first in a shoulder (not so bad), then in a leg (quite worse) and then in the chest. Gil supposed they were lucky he had missed the heart. Still, he'd been stabbed in what was probably a lung, and had left him breathless and coughing up blood, big blue eyes shining with pain and... Was it? A tinge of happiness. He was happy that he was dying.

"No, you don't do this to me!"

Dani had called an ambulance, cleared the way. Good thing that she did, because Gil didn't know if he would have been able to simply dial 911. (How could he, with all that blood on his hands...).

"Stay with me, kid! You gotta stay with me!"

There were some tears in Malcolm's eyes and Gil didn't know if it was fear, pain or even joy. The only thing he knew was that he didn't want those eyes to ever close. 

There was a commotion. Malcolm was taken in the ambulance, Dani with him. 

Gil was left there, on the floor, next to all of that red. 

Blood on his hands. 

*

"Why so glum?" 

The familiar voice shook Gil out of his whirlpool of guilt, while he was sitting in the hospital room, by Malcolm's bed. Finally! 

"You're awake! How are you feeling?" 

"I've had worse days." 

Gil didn't doubt that, even with twenty seven stitches in his chest. It had been touch and go for a while. The doctors had said that it would be to up to him to make it, to his will to live. And Gil had been scared, because Malcolm had been had some suicidal tendencies and given a chance to go... 

But he proved them wrong. He was stronger than any of them gave him credit for. Resilient. 

Still... 

"Seriously, Gil. Why are you looking so miserable? I'm fine, aren't I?" 

"You almost weren't. You almost... And I put you there. I keep putting in danger."

Malcolm was having none of that, and looked at him with those inescapable blue eyes. 

"You never forced me to anything."

"You didn't want to take this case."

"Doesn't mean I would have been any better." 

"You can still have serious breathing complications, I..." 

"Stop it. Gil, you gave me comfort when I most needed it. You've saved my life more times than you know. And now..." Malcolm was getting quite tired (it still hurt to breathe) but needed to finish. "The guys at the FBI didn't give a damn about me. Now I feel... Valued. I feel that I matter, and that I'm part of something. This... Is not on you. Is on that man who needed to stab people to feel alive."

Why was Bright comforting him? It should be the other way around, the kid had just been stabbed. And yet... 

" Why don't I get you some water, huh? You must be thirsty."

Gil tried to put his guilt aside, be grateful that the boy wasn't completely gone, that he was so strong... He was getting better, despite the seriousness of his injury and he had always people around, be it him or Dani or his sister and mom. 

But still, it was hard to forget him, with blood in his mouth and a vacant look. 

> Sometimes Gil woke up with a start, scared, still feeling something that he'd seen so clearly... 

Still feeling the blood on his hands. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> You know you want to comment!


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